Flying Away

To a majority of those whom I speak with, I have quite often mentioned how badly I want to leave home. I don’t say that with bitterness or sadness. I only say that i want to fly away from home. Lately, I have been reflecting over why I so fondly speak of leaving home. Not really sure where I am headed with all the reflection but I am certain that a lot of it has to do with the noise. I am not someone who is fond of it.

It is always noisy at home. Father always has something or the other to comment on. Mother always has a retort ready at the tip of her tongue. My brother lives in a noisy world inside his headphones. Oreo is ever ready to bark at the slightest of movements anywhere near his vision. And then there is the TV - always blaring in a foreign language every time that I am home. I had rare quiet days while growing up too. TV was not my choice when I was younger. We were a radio family. I grew up listening to the radio jockeys, making new favorite songs every other week. A faded memory of my Father’s transfer to the Terai is also there. But there isn’t much that I remember besides him calling every night to check on us. But now, the noise has multiplied.

It has always been just us at home. But somehow, now it is noisier and cold. No, I still feel lighter when I reach home every night but it is basically just for the dinner that my hungry-without-any-appetite stomach craves for. All that is at home is noise. I do not like noise. I grew up becoming someone who is very, very uncomfortable with it.

These days when I am home, it is mostly already time for dinner. I listen to all the chatter and also to the TV blaring in the background and gulp dinner down my throat, keeping my mind occupied by something that has already been done or by something I have yet to start. Once that dinner is done, I pretend to be asleep or busy for a few more hours until everything has quieted at home- Brother, Mother, Father and Oreo all sound asleep in bed. Then I slowly walk out of bed, turn on the lights and start working or studying. There are also days when I just lie down and listen to the quiet in the dark. No, I don’t stare at the moon or the stars. Nights are dark and scary no matter how pretty it is after the dusk. These moments, I tell you, are the best. Quiet is comfort and joy for me.

Does this sound like a stupid reason to you for me wanting to leave home? Well, I have always lived my life with rules since day one. Somewhere along the way, I dreamt of bringing in a bit of stupidity in my life. And I am a sucker for dreams. Maybe me flying away will make home a bit quiet by the time that I am back. Or it will make home a bit more noisier. The only way to find out is for me to fly away.